


If Only Their Happiness Could Last

by traceyourshadows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M, after the whole awful noise that kurloz stitches his mouth up over u feel me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traceyourshadows/pseuds/traceyourshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been three weeks since Meulin was last able to hear, and the space between she and Kurloz has grown along with the silence. She clings to every happy moment she can get with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only Their Happiness Could Last

They didn’t speak as they watched the sunset from atop the hill, although there was much to say.

It was three weeks since Meulin had last been able to hear, three weeks since Kurloz had . . . she shifted her eyes from the grass upon which she sat to his mouth. She counted the stitches holding his lips together, did her best to recall the sound of his voice. But it was hard. It got harder every day.

An unusual distance lay between them; a mere foot, but it was infinitely larger than before, when they couldn’t bear for a moment together to go by without pressing up close to one another. She itched to scoot closer and let their arms press together, lean into his warmth. But every time she’d tried these last few weeks, he gave her a smile that didn’t affect his regretful eyes and then pulled away a little bit.

She didn’t know how to communicate with him. She’d ask him why he felt the need to pull away—how could he doubt that she loved him despite the accident? hadn’t she made that clear?—but she wouldn’t have been able to hear his answer even if she could find the courage to ask the words.

Meulin looked down, placed her chin upon her knees, and waited. As if something would change. Neither the situation nor the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach became any different, though, and she suddenly didn’t have the heart to sit here and share this silence and this sunset with Kurloz.

“I should go,” she said, feeling the words out carefully for him despite not being able to hear them herself. She glanced at him reluctantly to find surprised eyes, the peace of the moment gone from his face. 

He tilted his head, and she watched him, almost waiting to hear him speak before laughing bitterly. “I’m sorry.”

Those lips of his turned down in a frown. He moved closer and attempted harder to communicate, making dramatic motions with his hands. She tried, she really did, but finally had to furrow her brow and shake her head. “I can’t tell what you’re trying to say.”

They considered each other for a moment. Neither of them moved closer, but neither of them made a move to broach the space, either. All the same, he was nearer than before, and that was just enough for her heart to pick up.

She wondered what had happened to ‘I should go.’

But, it was worth a shot to stay a bit longer.

Her opportunity came in the form of the breeze picking up. Her long, thick hair stirred a bit, and chilling air brushed across her neck, her hands, the exposed portion of her legs. Her body was taken by an unintentional shiver. She drew in on herself, tucking her legs underneath, hunching her head lower, and tugging her sleeves to cover as much of her hands as possible. Kurloz, however, did not find her efforts satisfactory. 

She hadn’t heard his approach, and the downward focus of her eyes prohibited her from realizing he’d drawn closer until he was already pressed against her side, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes flashed up to find he’d fixed his eyes on her again. 

Although her heart thudded even quicker now, and she’d begun to feel happy butterflies in her stomach, she did her best to mask her enthusiasm with a calm smile. But he leaned closer. Her stomach felt like it was _flipping_ ; but she grasped hold of the moment, shut her eyes, and also leaned in until the distance was closed.

She’d nearly forgotten about the stitches closing his mouth. She couldn’t kiss him like she could before; there was no motion between their lips, nothing more than the emotional yet gentle contact between them. But she found that she didn’t really care. 

They pulled back after a few seconds. They continued to look at each other, but this time, her smile was much broader and more heartfelt. He returned it, the corners of his eyes crinkling like she hadn’t seen in weeks. He inclined his head away from them, and she could tell by his eyes that this was meant to be a suggestion. But what _sort_ of suggestion?

When she only stared blankly at him, he laughed a little bit—she could tell because she felt his chest rumble a little bit. He pulled gracefully away from her and stood, extending a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to his feet.

He released her and placed a hand on her shoulder, bidding her to wait one moment longer. A glance to his face revealed he was watching the horizon once more. She turned her head towards it, too, and together they waited a few minutes for the very last of the sun to disappear from view. 

His lips pressed against her cheek, and she gave him a warm smile. Again, he returned it, and he looked so content and like he used to that she allowed herself to feel optimistic again. His hand dropped from her shoulder to her side, his gloved fingers twining themselves with hers. She allowed him to walk her home, and if the tail affixed to her skirt was real, it surely would have been flickering happily.

If only their happiness could last.


End file.
